


Storm in the Beginning

by treefrogie84



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, I'm apparently having Meg feels this month, Introspection, Meg POV, mostly canon-compliant, precanon through 8.17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treefrogie84/pseuds/treefrogie84
Summary: She doesn’t remember humanity-- not the way the Winchesters mean it anyway, doesn’t remember being human, needing to eat, piss, sleep, all that bullshit.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16
Collections: SPNColdestHits





	Storm in the Beginning

She doesn’t remember humanity-- not the way the Winchesters mean it anyway, doesn’t remember being human, needing to eat, piss, sleep, all that bullshit. She’s old enough she barely remembers her first time on the Rack, although being tossed back on there every time she displeased the ones she owed fealty to kept her fear of it fresh enough.

Azazel, and through him Lucifer, tossed her back on there when she had an original thought. It only happened once, screaming out her new sins amid the new souls, showing them their future. The torture never stops, only changes form.

She knows she was human, once, the name whispered to her over her cradle and then buried so deeply that no one in Hell should ever know it. There are whispers, most of them wrong, that she razes to the ground as soon as she has the power to do so.

Azazel might hold her contract, but he does not hold her.

Tom dies.

Azazel dies.

Lilith dies and that bitch Ruby with her, and her god is freed and she is working at his right hand and...

Lucifer abandons her to die in holy fire, her hounds die, and she’s forgotten. Care, in the context of demons, is already a dubious concept, and there’s no one left to even pretend.

By the time she’s recovered enough to pull Crowley’s intestines through his meat suit’s nostrils, it’s too late. Lucifer is caged-- her god locked away again-- and Crowley has assumed the throne.

Meg hides, on Earth, in Hell, sometimes even in Purgatory, anywhere she can avoid Crowley’s increasingly erratic rule and his bootlickers. She’s seen this illness before, in demons who never quite learned how to give up their humanity, who were too attached to their meat suits, occasionally in demons who stole a body of their own bloodline.

But he’s a long way from it being incapacitating yet, if he even realizes what’s happening. She’s certainly not going to enlighten him.

And then she’s carefully placed on a worn out couch, a spring poking her, staring at an angel who makes her want to be... human. Makes her realize that it’s not just Crowley who’s in love with humanity.

Lucifer abandoned and ignored her, but she recovered, even without her faith. Dean-o never had faith either and look at him. How can she do any less?

She won’t survive another confrontation with Crowley, but it will give the others a chance to steal the tablet. Turns out she had a different cause to serve than the one she always thought.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure this really fits the prompt, but considering attempts 1 and 2 both want to be much much longer fics (30k at least, is my guess), we're going with it.


End file.
